


Dinner with the Weasleys.

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:48:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23173432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Dad there’s, two of you in this picture?”In which the kids are not informed about the war, or the existence of Fred Weasley I.(Idk sorry :>|)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

Dinner, A Harry Potter FanFic  
Dad...” His Dad was busy having an in depth conversation with Uncle Ron at the end of the table. Fred nervously combed his ginger Afro and placed his comb back in his pocket, carefully. It was his only one, after all. His mother had taken him out especially for it. That’s not important now though. All his cousins and his sister gossiped at the other end of the table, all the grownups seemed to be talking to his Dad now, apart from Molly, Hugo and Teddy who were preparing dinner.

He wondered why it was so hard to speak up, to ask. Four years at Hogwarts had brought him more confidence- but clearly not enough. It was just a picture, probably a mistake right? A practical joke, his Dad was prone to those. 

Procrastinating, he remembered the afternoon before they broke up for the summer. Thomas Dean-Finnegan was with him by the lake and they were tossing rocks when Head Professor McGonagall tapped him lightly on the shoulder, her eyes were sad as she handed him a folded paper, wearing sad smile that matched her eyes she turned, and walked away. Thomas had nosily peered over bit Fred had shoved the paper into his pocket. Away from prying eyes, later that evening on the train home, he removed himself from the crowded Weasley-Potter carriage, to an empty one. He took the pallet from his pocket, a little crumpled but he unfolded it never the less. What he saw was incredibly confusing, the people in the painting seemed confused. They stared at him for some time and then gasped, they began to wave frantically. Fred was in a state of stunned silence.


	2. Oh?!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> April 1st 1978- May 2nd 1998

Moving from his stance at the bottom of the stairs he began to walk through the kitchen, towards his Father. “Dad?” Fred spoke louder, he heard himself this time, the power and the shake in his voice. His Dad turned, familiar eyes meeting his.  
“Just a sec lads- yeah Freddie?”  
“Well, uh,” he was losing his nerve, he spat the next sentence out quickly,” McGonagall gave me a painting-picture-I don’t know but I’ve been meaning to ask you about it.”  
“Oh, well what was it of son?” George asked slowly, as if talking to someone slow or hard of hearing. Fred was neither of these things, but the longer he stayed quiet the quicker his Dad’s grin began to fade and he hated that so he spat his words out as quickly as possible. The adults were watching him now so it took a few seconds under the pressure, luckily only a few of his cousins had looked up.   
“I just- it’s a curious picture you see- there’s- well there’s-“  
“Come on Freddie we don’t have all day,” George laughed.   
Fred coughed nervously.   
“There’s two of you in it.”  
He put the picture in front of his Dad on the table. George’s face dropped from its smile, as if someone had somehow climbed up in his head and realised all the muscles from his skull. He went terribly pale, even for him, and reached over for the small painting, with shaky hands. After what felt like a long, long moment of silence, with nothing but the ticking clock filling the space,  
“McGonagall gave this to you?” Uncle Harry said, careful eyes flicking between the picture, George and Fred. Fred didn’t feel like he could talk. He’d said something very, very wrong. He just nodded. Uncle Percy dropped his face into his arms upon the table, in a very un-Uncle-Percy-like way. Fred’s Mother, Angelina, had come to stand next to his Dad, wearing a look that reminded him of McGonagall’s face.   
“I-“ George started.  
“Yeah.” Ron spoke, making no kind of sense at all really but all the adults seemed to feel the same. Fred was still confused and frightened. His cousins looking up now, very puzzled. Grandma Weasley let out a sob from across the kitchen, as George has laid the painting down for them all to see. Teddy, holding her up from collapse was slightly less confused but still rather upset. “F-Fred.” George choked, stroking one of his two faces. The face in the picture looked up at him, and to the identical next to him, a tear slipped down his cheek. Fred had been so hasty with with it before, he never noticed that one of his Dads faces had both ears, not one.   
“Dad, I’m sorry I don’t?” Fred tried to speak softly this time, it wasn’t a challenge.  
His Dad turned slowly, smiling sadly, tearing spilling over his eyelashes. “Roxanne, come here sweetie.”  
Roxanne got up from her chair, where she had been listening carefully. Her chair gave an awkward scrape and James giggled a little and silenced immediately at one look from his Mother. James then reached over, and pushed it in for her. As she paced over, Victoria gave her a tentative smile. 

“Roxanne, Fred,” their Dad breathes holding up the painting, “ Meet your Uncle. Fred. The first.” More tears. “My twin, my best friend, the best man to ever live, a trickster, a prankster, much, much braver than me-“  
“Than all of us,” whispered Bill and Percy gave a small nod and a sniffle from his folded arms. His wife, he tell patted his back.   
“Uncle?” questioned Albus,” we have ANOTHER uncle?”   
“Yes, yes you do,” Harry answered, pain evident in his voice. Grandma Weasley let out another sob. George looked around and back to the picture, then up at Fred, then back to the picture.   
“Everyone gather round, I have a long, long story to tell you.”

Fred Weasley   
1st of April 1978 - 2nd of May 1998


End file.
